


Rain.

by PureCacophony



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7660876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PureCacophony/pseuds/PureCacophony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frank cheats on Gerard, Gerard leaves him, shattering their 3 year relationship. </p><p>4 years pass, and Gerard; who managed to pull himself out of depression and now is a highly respected artist in the New York scene, runs into Frank; who is coping with alcoholism as a result of the breakup, at one of Gerard's big gallery openings. </p><p>(this sounds like a terrible rom-com im sorry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

       The rain was nice. Gerard almost wanted to stay in it forever. It was sticky and wet, and despite both of those reasons, Gerard loved it.

       The lit up signs along the almost empty streets looked extra vibrant in contrast the dark grey evening sky. Gerard had no umbrella, so he was soaked to the core; his unwashed black hair plastered to the sides of his face.

       He couldn't wait to get home to see Frank.

\----------

       Gerard stepped into their small apartment, shaking his head a little bit to get rid of some of the water. "Frank?" He called to the house, getting no response. Weird. Frank was usually welcoming like a puppy, attacking him with cheerful hugs and kisses. Maybe he was napping?

       Just as he was about to take a step onto the stairs, a feeling of dread washed over him, but he shook it off. Everything was fine. He was sure of it. There was nothing wrong. Nothing at all.

       With each step, he further doubted himself. Why was he feeling so bad about this?

       A laugh. He heard a laugh. That was not Frank's laugh. Gerard was sure that whoever just laughed, that it was not Frank. He couldn't be- no, Gerard refused to think that. Frank was his /boyfriend/. He would never do that!

       Would he?

       Before he even realised it, he was pushing open the bedroom door, and his jaw just dropped. His suspicions were true and confirmed. Frank was in bed with another man.

       "Gerard! I-I..." He thought he heard Frank stutter and sit up, but he wasn't even sure at this point. In that moment, Gerard was so shocked all he could do was stuff a bag full of his clothes and leave the room, muttering an awkward string of apologies.

       Where was he to go? It all happened so fast. With his parents hours away, he couldn't expect them to drop everything and take him in again. Gerard had a job, and he could only take so much time off, anyways.

       Mikey! He could go visit Mikey. Gerard was sure that Mikey and his girlfriend would take him in. They were only a 20 minute drive away, after all.

       Thoughts swirled around his head as he emerged back into the rain, ignoring Frank's footsteps running downstairs after him. "Gerard, please! Wait!" He didn't even know what to say.

       Gerard wanted to stop. He wanted to turn around and forgive Frank right there. He wanted things to be perfectly okay again. But he also wanted to scream. To yell at Frank. To ask him what was going on in his head to make him do that.

       His hand trembled as he opened the passenger car door, throwing the bag in harshly. Slamming the door shut again, he felt Frank try to grab his arm. "Gerard. Please, listen to me."

       "I don't even know what to think, Frank. I don't know how long you've been doing this, or- or if you don't love me anymore. Frank, I don't know what to say to you. I need time to be alone."

       "Please, don't go," Gerard heard Frank wisper, making him pause and hesitate for a second. He had to force himself to get in his car and start it. He had to force himself to look away from Frank's crying face. He had to force himself to drive away, leaving everything behind.

       He had to force himself to believe that he didn't love Frank anymore.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a panic attack in the chapter!

       Gerard was never one for crowds. Crowds this size were even worse. Swishing what was left of his water around his water bottle, he looked around the room from his spot, taking time to examine all of the people. He took the final sip of his water.

       After Gerard had left Frank, he had stayed with Mikey and fell into a deep depression. After struggling for over 2 years, he finally managed to get his shit together and seek help, thus resulting in him doing better and making a name for himself. This was his biggest gallery opening yet.

       So yeah, you could say he was doing all right.

       Frank? Gerard had no idea what had happened to Frank. He hadn't spoken to him since maybe a month after he left. That didn't matter now, however. Frank was no longer the single thought that consumed his mind.

        What consumed his mind now was art.

       He was proud of his art, and it seemed that many other people enjoyed it as much as he did. Standing by one of his paintings, person after person came and shook his hand, offering congratulations and the like. It would be a lie if he said that he enjoyed it.

       Among the seemingly endless waves of people, Gerard felt like his prayers had been answered when he finally saw a friendly face. Well- he saw hair first, then face.

       "Hey Gerard! How's it going here?" Gerard's long time close friend Ray asked, all happiness and bright smiles.

       "I'm more than ready to leave. I have been for such a long time," That was quite true. A small laugh escaped his lips, however. "Boy, is it nice to see such a friendly face here."

       "It must be. I'm not staying for long, though. Just thought I'd drop by and congratulate you."

       "Thanks, Ray. It means a lot."

       "No problem. Anyways I-" Ray was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. "Sorry, hold on a minute," Gerard watched as Ray quickly walked off, putting his phone up to his ear.

        Gerard ended up speaking to some 'art critic' snob whilst Ray was gone, and all he wanted was to burrow in a hole at the critic's words. God, how could somebody be so stuck up?

       "...And so, that's why a huge problem in the art world is sarcastic artists who don't take art seriously." The man finished just as Ray returned. Thank all above that is holy for Ray.

       "Yeah, sorry, but my friend is back. Nice conversation though..." Gerard awkwardly told the snob, which was just enough to get him to leave.

       "That was Bob. He wanted me to go and pick up some dinner, so I better get to it I suppose," Ray grinned and gave Gerard a quick hug, and Gerard didn't hesitate to reciprocate it.

       "So I'll see you around?"

       "Obviously. Text me when you're done here. If It's before midnight," Ray laughed and gave the artist a wave before disappearing through the crowd of people.

       Time passed slowly, and the group of people seemed endless. One leaves, 3 more enter. That was very much not the case and Gerard knew it, however that's what it seemed to be. He was growing anxious with all of the people around him. They might as well have been suffocating him with their own hands.

       Anxiety started to fill him when more and more people started to come up to him and crowd him. Too many faces asking too many questions. How many of them were just here to criticize him? His art was terrible, wasn't it? He couldn't take it anymore. In the midst of somebody asking him a question about whether or not Gerard liked his own art, Gerard just left.

       He ran outside of the gallery and into the alleyway beside the building. Breath seemed to escape him entirely and he was almost completely unable to draw it back. His knees slowly clicked back and forth before they completely buckled from underneath him.

       Gerard knew very well what was happening, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. So there he sat, huddled in an alleyway, practically sobbing for breath. Thoughts were pinging around his head like a bunch of bouncy balls, and he still couldn't fucking breathe.

       He heard a voice from the end of the alleyway, but didn't dare look up. Gerard was still a sobbing, heaving, mess. "Excuse me, sir? Are... Are you okay?" The voice asked, getting closer.

       The man sat beside him, but Gerard couldn't see him, for his face was buried in his knees. "You're having a panic attack, aren't you?" What the fuck did he think? Nooo, gerard just liked to sit in filthy alleyways and panic. Favourite past time of his.

       "Okay, you are," The man confirmed, but it was mostly to himself it seemed. "My boy- ex boyfriend would get these sometimes. Okay, so what do you hear?"

       "....Your voice, and cars."

       "Good, good. What do you smell?" The stranger asked softly, and Gerard just sniffled as his breath hitched.

       "I smell... Cigarette smoke."

       "Feel?"

       "I feel my clothes. I feel dirt."

       "You're doing very well, sir," Gerard almost wanted to look up at the stranger and see what he looked like, but he just couldnt. "What to you taste?"

       Gerard let out a breath, his hands loosening their grips on his own knees. "I taste the wine I had earlier."

       "Okay, last one. What do you see?" Gerard slowly lifted his face up, and stared down the opposite wall of the alley.

       "I see a brick wall. I see dirt and," slowly, he turned his face, which was wet from tears, towards the stranger. What he saw was enough to make him pass out.

       "Frank."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to writing again! I have had no motivation to do anything recently, but I finally managed to force my lazy ass to write. I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> :))


	3. Chapter 3

       Frank nearly screamed when he saw who the man crouched before him was. Out of joy? Shock? He hadn't a clue. But what he did know, was that holyfuckingshit Gerard, who he hadn't spoken to in 4 years was sitting right in front of him, in the middle of New York City. What the fuck?

       He simply stared at Gerard, just as gobsmacked as his ex. The calmness of a few moments ago simply faded into an awkward silence, and Frank almost felt bad. Judging by the look on Gerard's face, Frank was almost positive that he was going to spiral back into another panic attack.

       "Gerard I- Holy shit..." Was all Frank could force out of his mouth. He watched as the other man stood up, following the action right after. "I... Oh my god you're right in front of me."

       "N-No shit." He heard Gerard whisper, his voice cracking from either nervousness or the fact that his voice was most likely shot from sobbing.

       "I-Uh-How are you?" Internal facepalm. Really? Frank cursed himself internally many times for saying something so stupid.

       "Frank, I think at this point w-we both know there's no use for awkward small talk. I better get back inside. Shouldn't keep the people waiting," Gerard huffed and turned to leave, but Frank was not about to let him get away. Not this time.

       He quickly grabbed the other man's shoulder, earning a small yelp of surprise from him. "Shit, sorry. Okay, Gerard, as awkward as this is can I please have your number? It'ss okay if you still hate me I mean, you probably do and all but I would like to stay in touch and maybe buy you dinner sometime- not romantically, of course- as an apology for what happened?" It was a miracle that Frank somehow managed to fit that in almost one breath. He even surprised himself with that.

       "...Frank. You cheated on me."

       "Yes, I know, and I'm still so, so, so sorry and there honestly isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it and I just- just please, let me buy you dinner or something sometime," Frank pleaded, looking up into the taller man's eyes. Gerard's eyes flashed with what seemed to be softness, before his overall expression returned to obviously feigned hardness.

       Gerard seemed to hesitate for a moment, before he let out a defeated sigh and snapped his fingers twice, holding out his palm after. "Phone."

       Frank almost screamed again, this time with joy. Certainly joy. He handed over his phone, almost a little too eagerly, and watched Gerard fiddle around with it.

       He finally looked Gerard up and down, taking in his new appearance. He had clearly lost a bunch of weight, making so many of his beautiful features more prominent. His hair was no longer a greasy black mop, but now longer bright firetruck red locks, the back of it pulled into a small ponytail. There was an absence of smudged black eyeliner, and although he was still wearing black skinny jeans, the white button up shirt made it look somewhat nicer and less 'teen angsty'.

       To sum it up, Gerard had really cleaned himself up, holy shit.

       Frank must've been staring a bit too long, because Gerard was now letting out an annoyed sigh whilst holding his phone out, his brow quirked up high. "Jesus, Frank. Just take your damn phone already."

       He quickly took it and looked down at the screen, Gerard's new number and contact name all set up. It turned out that Gerard had already sent a text to himself from Frank's phone to confirm numbers, so there was no need to do that now.

       However, when he looked up from his screen to thank Gerard and wish him good night, he was already gone, leaving little to no trace that he was even there.

       Frank dialled a cab on his phone. He was heading out to see a small local band at a bar, but after what just happened, he needed to go home and process.

 

* * *

 

   
       When Frank arrived at his shared apartment, he pulled out his keyring (in all honesty, he wasn't even sure why he needed a key ring; there was only one key on it after all.) and jammed the key into the lock, opening his way into the apartment.

       After taking his shoes and coat off, he was about to call out for his roommate, Pete, but a moan from Pete's room stopped him. Frank just rolled his eyes. When did Pete /not/ have Patrick over? He skimmed through a couple of small jokes he could play on them, but decided to just let them be. He was in too good of a mood to do anything.

       Frank walked to the small kitchen and opened the fridge, making a mental note to get more groceries soon. They were almost out of everything! Sighing, he settled on an apple for the time being, making his way back to the couch. Flopping down, he dug his hands around for the remote, making yet another mental note to yell at Pete later for always misplacing it.

       Eventually, he found it and turned on the TV, flipping through the channel and leaving it on some terrible sitcom rerun. Another moan could be heard from Pete's bedroom, louder than the last, and definitely Patrick's. Frank would be telling a terrible lie if he said it didn't turn him on at least a little bit. That wasn't the problem though.

       The problem was Frank had to tell Pete about Gerard, yet Pete was taking his sweet time with Patrick. They /always/ took forever. Pete said it had to do with the fact that 'It takes time to show all of the love you hold for one person.' Whatever. Bullshit.

       After what seemed like forever, Frank heard both of them obviously finishing in the bedroom. That, he would rather not hear. But hey, it meant that they were /finally/ fucking finished. Frank had been through this 'ordeal' far more times than one should be comfortable with. But hey, whenever Frank had brought a guy home, Pete never said anything either.

       Shortly, Frank heard the door to Pete's bedroom click open, and he heard footsteps coming down the short hallway. "Frankie? Why are you here so early?" The older man asked from the hallway.

       "One, it really isn't that early. Two, I never made it to the show."

       "And why is that?" Pete finally entered the living room, clad in pyjamas, and Frank thanked god that Pete wasn't naked.

        "I ran into somebody."

       "Yeah, what's the big deal? Just spit it out already." Frank could tell Pete was growing impatient, but he still couldn't entirely bring himself to say he ran into Gerard. It still felt way too surreal. Too good to be true. Like if he said it, he would wake up and this all would've been some twisted dream.

       Jesus, why was he obsessing over this? They hadn't been together for 4 years. Gerard would've most likely met somebody new already. He definitely seemed to be doing well for himself, at least.

       "Remember Gerard?"

       "Yeah, I remember meeting h- don't tell me."

       "Yeah."

       "Dude, you have to talk to him again!"

       "Shut up, Pete. I already have his number. I'm going to text him in a couple of days and see if we can catch up over dinner or something- and /just/ as friends. So don't go getting any ideas, you hear? Where's Patrick?" Frank asked, quickly switching topics.

       "Sleeping. Stop changing the subject. So you're only going out to dinner as friends?"

       "It's not even confirmed that we're going out to dinner. And if we are, it's just as friends. Nothing more."

       Pete just scoffed and rolled his eyes, standing up. "Yeah sure. If you say so."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is a surprise chapter. I was going to wait to post it but I have no self control lol. I hope you enjoyed this chapter ft. Somewhat sexually frustrated Frank. I am just so in love with this story and I really hope all of you are enjoying it just as much as I'm enjoying writing it! I appreciate all of the positive feedback so far!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are rad :))


	4. Chapter 4

       The moment Gerard got home, he collapsed to his knees and threw up all over his floor. He would've thrown up all over Frank, if he didn't leave when he did. Four years. Four fucking years he spent getting over Frank, only to have him crash back into his life like a tsunami. Truth is, it scared him more than anything.

       Gerard just sat on his knees, sour bile dripping from his bottom lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, stumbling back to his feet. Turning around, he realised that he hadn't even shut the door to his apartment. He let out a heavy sigh before he closed the door and went to the bathroom to grab a towel to clean up his mess.

       Standing at his sink, he held a towel under the running faucet to soak it thoroughly. Bitterness filled him to the core as he reeled over meeting Frank. Again. In a way, both times they 'met' were neither in the best of situations- the first time probably being worse- but the second meeting felt like it succeeded in terms of making him feel shitty.

       Fingernails gripped at the towel tightly, and the only thing pulling Gerard out of his hateful thoughts was the water from the faucet spilling over the rim of the sink and ending up all over his pants. Great, yet another reason to be pissed off. Gerard yanked the towel out of the sink with a scowl and stalked back to the living room, just throwing it over top of the vomit.

       Moping and drowning in self pity was all he could do at that moment. Why did he even give his number to Frank? Was it so they could get back together just for Frank to fuck him over again? Gerard just mentally hit himself on the side of his head. Okay, maybe he actually did it. But he was just so pissed off. What was he going to do?

       If Frank wanted to take him out to dinner, maybe he should go. It was the nice thing to do. Although, in Gerard's mind, Frank was a disgusting cheater who didn't deserve "nice". Just then, his phone started ringing from his back pocket. Gerard prayed to all that is holy that it wasn't Frank.

      It was.

       "What," Gerard just huffed as he picked up.

       "Jesus, Gee. You've become quite a bitter Betty."

       "I have every right to be, do I not? Just because it's been a few years doesn't mean I'm not angry anymore. I shouldn't even be talking to you right now, Frank. Just spit it out already. Why did you call?"

       Gerard just heard a sigh from the other line. "Listen, Gee. I'm sorry. Can I just take you out to dinner sometime? I would like to explain what happened wh-"

       "When you cheated on me. Broke my fucking heart. What's there to explain about that?" Gerard just laughed bitterly. His finger was so close to pressing the end call button.

        "Yeah. When I cheated on you. Just listen and let me take you out. You don't- I just- please, you deserve a proper apology and an explanation."

       "Or is this just for you to clear your conscience and feel better about yourself? Expect me to crawl back to you and immediately forgive you. Not going to happen. Goodbye Frank-"

       "Gerard, wait! Please, you don't have to ever talk to me again. I'll never bother you, either," God, he sounded pathetic. It almost made Gerard laugh.

       "Fine. You can take me out. Tomorrow, seven o'clock P.M. exactly. On the dot. I know how bad you are with being on time. Meet me at my apartment. I'll text you the address. Bye," He hung up abruptly, running his hand through his hair. What did he just agree to. He wasn't entirely sure.

       What he did know, however, was that he was exhausted and needed to sleep before he passed out on the floor. So he made his way to his messy and unorganised bedroom, collapsing on his unmade bed.

       He fell asleep in a matter of seconds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my absence. I've been busy. Although, I will be even more busy in a couple of days. School starts. I found time to write this incredibly short chapter. Hope you enjoy?


	5. Chapter 5

       Frank stared at reflection and fixed his appearance yet again- for the sixth time. He wanted to impress Gerard. Then again, he wasn't sure if impressing him was going to be possible at this point- or at any point. Deep in his mind, Frank knew this dinner was going to be a flop. Starting when he flat out lied to Gerard about having an explanation. Truth is he obviously didn't. Not even a fragment of one.

       Although he had no explanation, he liked to think that he made up for that with remorse. Though that may have just been his ego talking. He would be able to make it up to Gerard, wouldn't he? Either way, he was going to try his hardest.

       Checking himself for what he promised himself to be the last time, Frank left his apartment, double checking that the door was locked; Pete was gone for the night and their area wasn't exactly the most safe from burglars. Or anything really. But it was decent enough for 2- practically three if you inclue Patrick or any of Pete's friends such as Andy, Joe, Ryan, Jon, Spencer or Brendon. He always had somebody over.

       The harsh fluorescent lights signalling the early awakening of NYC's nightlife stood out in contrast to the drab backdrop of the dark overcast sky as Frank emerged from his building. He just prayed that it wouldn't start raining. Frank was never one for rain. It was cold and made everything around him soaked and mucky. Rain was mostly just one big inconvenience to him.

       As it turned out, Gerard only lived about an hour long walk away from Frank, and that just delighted him. A bit too much- more than he would admit, at least. Gerard, like Frank lived in an apartment building, and Frank immediately was envious, for Gerard's building looked much nicer and not like it was about to collapse at any given time.

       What ever envy Frank had immediately went away when he walked in, his eyes landing on the single elevator door. On the door was a little sign that read "Out Of Order." Gerard lived on the 8th floor, and Frank sighed and began making the trek up the stairs.

       The stairs were tiring; more than Frank was willing to admit. He made a mental note to actually start heading to the gym when he reached the top.

       Counting the almost endless navy doors as he walked, Frank mentally kept repeating Gerard's apartment number. When he reached the door, however, he stopped and stared at it. He knew he had to walk up and knock, but he was too nervous. Unnecessarily so.

       Frank had reeled over what he was going to say in his head about a million times, so why was he so afraid? Holding his breath, he mentally snapped himself out of it and knocked.

       No answer. He knocked again.

       No answer.

      Although Frank knew it was rude, he tried the door handle, and luckily the door was unlocked. Leaving the door unlocked in general was a bad idea, and Frank made yet another mental note- this time to lecture Gerard about the dangers of leaving his apartment to burglars and axe murderers.

       The moment he opened the door, music fillef his ears. It was that shitty generic pop music on the radio, but it was music, nonetheless. And it was playing rather loud.

       Frank took a second to glance around the apartment's living room, and he had to admit, it was very nice looking. The decor and furniture was a mixture of mostly modern pieces with a few antiques here and there, but for some reason it seemed to work nicely.

       Even though Frank knew he shouldn't've stepped further into the home without making his presence known, (plus he had quite dirty shoes and he would feel bad about mucking up the floor) he did so anyways and looked around for the source of the music.

       It wasn't coming from the living room or attatched kitchen, so the man followed his way towards the radio; down the hallway. Humming was heard once Frank reached a partially open door at the end of the very small hall. Through the tiny crack in the door, Frank could see the back of Gerard, who was hunched over a desk working.

       Of course he would be drawing or something like that when they were supposed to leave.

       Carefully and quietly, he pushed open the door wider, but Gerard didn't seem to notice. Gerard always went into his own little world when in the midst of a creative process. Frank simply watched him dip a fountain pen into some dark blue ink, and move it back to whatever he was working on.

       Gerard still hummed along to the radio, and Frank couldn't really resist the urge to speak anymore.

       "I never really remembered you as one to listen to this stuff," Frank watched as Gerard startled to the point of knocking the open bottle of ink onto the floor.

       "F-Frank! Shit!" Gerard hastily grabbed the bottle off the floor with surprisingly only a couple of drops spilt. "Jesus, warn me next time."

       "I tried. Knocked on the door n' shit. And you told me I was bad with time."

       "That's because you are. Wait, aren't you early?"

       "Actually, I'm fifteen minutes late. It's 7:15 exactly," Frank grinned, looking at his phone.

       "My clock says 6:45. Stupid analog," Gerard stood up and stretched his arms behind his back, triggering a series of pops in his spine. "Okay, so where are we going?"

       "I thought you were going to choose."

       "Well, I didn't. So... Yeah. Is a pub or something okay?"

       Fuck. Frank didn't want to be anywhere near alcohol. He had been sober for just over 3 months and he didn't want to be tempted to try one drink that would inevitably turn into more and more.

       He didn't know why he couldn't just blatantly tell Gerard. Gee went through the same thing when they were together, and had presumably been sober ever since. "I'd rather not."

       "Why not, Frank? You didn't pick somewhere and that's one of the only close things open."

       "I have my reasons, Gerard."

       "What? We used to always go to pubs together. Is there something you're hiding? Wouldn't be the first time you've hid something from me."

       Something in Frank snapped at that moment and next thing he knew, he was yelling. "Jesus, Gerard! Are you ever going to let it go? It's really fucking hard for me when that's all you can bring up! It's in the past and I still feel like shit over it. Maybe the reason I don't want to go to a god damned pub is because it's a place that serves alcohol and I lack the self control to not go to sleep every night without getting blackout drunk in a puddle of my own piss and vomit. Fuck..."

       Suddenly the man in front of him had a change in demeanor. Frank couldn't look Gerard directly in the eye out of fear of crying. All he knew was that he was currently being pulled into a tight hug. "Let's just order in, Frank."

       Frank was okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops it's late. School has been killing me. I've been writing more for this as well as re-writing a bit of Never Looked Better And You Can't Stand It, surprisingly. (as well as Squad. But that's a given seeing how popular it is) Hope you enjoyed!:))

**Author's Note:**

> I found this prologue draft buried deep within the files of my phone, haha. Much like Never Looked Better And You Can't Stand It, I have decided to pick it up, as I can't bring myself to delete this shitty prologue. Please, tell me what you think! Or at least tell me if I should continue it or not.
> 
> :))


End file.
